


Auld Lang Syne

by aizia



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-10 23:10:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5604472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aizia/pseuds/aizia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You only have one New Year's resolution this year: you're going to tell your best friend you love her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

You have only one New Year's resolution this year. For once it isn't trying to sleep earlier or eat more vegetables or cut down on your caffeine consumption.

  
You're going to tell your best friend you love her.

  
It's quite possibly the most terrifying resolution you've ever had (it is, actually) but it's long overdue.

  
You met her two years ago in the university cafeteria. As a second year, you'd taken pity on the freshman struggling with the vending machine ( _you have to tap it gently in three different places, you'd explained_ ). When she grinned in thanks and bought you a bag of sour patch kids for your time you knew she was someone you'd want to run into again.

  
And you did. Before you knew it you were grabbing take out and getting together to study and having movie marathons. And then you were telling her everything because she was the easiest person to talk to you'd ever met. She filled the void of loneliness you'd been carrying around for longer than you'd care to admit.

  
It wasn't that you had no other friends. But there was a level of comfort you had with her that you'd never felt with anyone else.

  
She was kind and bold and determined and beautiful and it didn't take you long to realize you were drawn to her in a variety of different ways. More often that not these ways merged themselves into a confusing mass and for a while you couldn't differentiate much from anything. But the day you realize she's cemented herself so deep within your life it'd be excruciatingly painful to tear her out is the day you realize you love her.

  
That was a year and a half ago.

 

 

**JANUARY**

  
Korra lies with her head in your lap and her legs dangling over the side of your couch. You feed her forkfuls of chow mein periodically, as per her request, and try to pay attention to the movie you're playing.

 

But you're distracted. Korra offers phyiscal affection with such a blissful unawareness of what it does to you and if you didn't love it so much it'd be irritating. 

 

She snorts at something on the screen, and the sound is so endearing you run a hand through her hair and she hums softly.

 

You could say it now, you tell yourself. You swallow.

  
"Korra?"

  
Korra tilts her head up to look at you. "Yeah?"

  
You pause, waiting for a nonexistent bout of courage to take over. You must look as terrified as you feel, because Korra now looks concerned.

  
"You alright?" she asks.

  
You shake your head in dismissal. "I'm fine. Just wanted to make sure you were comfortable."

  
Korra studies you for a moment, head tilted in question. When she seems to accept your answer, your shoulder slump, and if it's out of relief or disappointment, you're not sure.

 

"Of course I'm comfortable," she says. "Your legs are the right amount of squishy."

  
Stupidly, you blush, and you're glad she isn't looking at you now. "Wow, thanks."

  
"That's a compliment! My legs are hard and muscley. Nobody wants to sleep on them."

  
"How many people do you ask to sleep on your legs?"

  
"My dog."

  
You laugh and narrowly avoid saying something stupid like _I'd sleep on your lap_ or _But I love your muscles!_

  
You toy with bringing up your resolution for the next half an hour, but when you realize Korra's fallen asleep the decision is made for you.

  
Another time, you tell yourself.

 

 

**APRIL**

  
It's one of those days when you wish you had a family.

  
As you've come to realize, public spaces are crawling with them. Happy families, sad families, large families, small families, young families, old families. You're long past the point of resentment at the sight of them, and now all you feel is a small pang if anything, but today you're feeling inexplicably fragile.

  
All it takes is a father-daughter duo laughing together at the table beside you to get you to leave the cafe that morning. Stubbornly not wanting to cry in public, you sit in your car and pull out your phone and dial the only person you want to talk to right now. She picks up on the first ring and must hear something in your voice because she asks you what's wrong almost immediately.

  
"I miss having a family," you say.

  
"Hang on," Korra says. "See you in fifteen?"

  
And that's one of many reasons why you love her.

 

* * *

 

Not long after, Korra shows up at your door with a container of ice cream in hand. She pulls you into a hug, which is slightly awkward since she's still holding an ice cream container, but you settle into her hold anyway. When the container grazes your arm you jolt, however. It's cold, and Korra apologizes.

  
"Never apologize for buying me ice cream," you say.

  
Once you get to the kitchen you break open the seal and realize it's managed to melt into green soup despite feeling so cold on your arm earlier. You shrug and grab two spoons anyway, and for a while you and Korra sit on your counter and eat in silence.

  
"Call me whenever you're lonely, okay?" Korra says, tapping her spoon against the counter. "I know I can't be your family, but I'll do anything I can."

You nod and lean into her shoulder. "That means a lot to me."

  
She throws an arm around you, and you cry a little, and it feels good to have someone hold you.

  
Later that night, when Korra is leaving, you know how easily the words could slip off your lips, but her support and her kindness feels too precious for you to risk. So you smile and tell her good night and wonder how much you're willing to sacrifice.

 

 

**JUNE**

  
You're typing a report when noises like thunder bang on your ear drums and suddenly the world is unstable around you. You panic for a moment - until you realize what's happening - and then you crawl under the nearest table and wince when you hear glass break.

  
You stay under the table for a few minutes after the noises and the shaking stops (the shaking in your limbs hasn't) and then you grab your phone and run outside.

  
Korra has texted you already. She's fine, and you tell her you're in one piece, but some of your glass cups probably aren't, and she says _good. i was worried about you, on the 9th floor with an earthquake and all. be careful_

  
You stare at your screen for a moment, erase _love you_ twice, and finally settle on _you too. call me if you need anything._

 

You text Bolin and Mako and Opal, and they're all okay.

 

 

**OCTOBER**

  
The bar is quiet tonight, but Korra isn't.

  
"So Mako's got a girlfriend now, huh?" she says, grinning. "I was hoping he'd make a move on someone."

  
"I'm glad," you say, and you really are happy for him. "In a way we owe him, bringing us together and all."

  
Korra looks at you like she's never considered that. "Shit, you're right. I'll have to thank him."

  
"Thank him for cheating on me?" you say, but you're teasing. You were over that ages ago.

  
"No," she says. "More like, thank him for having such good taste."

  
You snort, and it's definitely undignified, but the grin Korra gives you is worth any embarrassment.

  
"Speaking of that, Korra, I—"

  
"Yo Korra!" someone shouts, and before you know it a woman you don't recognize is challenging Korra to a game of pool. At the look in her eyes you have a feeling her offer is less about the game and more about beating someone.

  
Korra glances at you, and her expression morphs from exasperated to apologetic. "Asami, this is Kuvira. Kuvira, my friend Asami." Korra looks at you. "We're... co-workers."

  
"Hi," you say, and Kuvira nods.

  
"You want to watch the game?" Korra asks, and again she looks kind of sorry.

  
"I think I'll stay here," you say. "But I eagerly await news of your victory." Korra winks at you (oh no) and turns to leave.

  
"Wait," Korra is saying. "What were you going to say?" She gives her rival pool player a hard look. "Before you were so rudely interrupted."

  
You swallow. "Never mind," you say, and raise a hand as if to dismiss it. "I'll tell you later."

  
But you don't.

 

 

**DECEMBER**

  
For a day Korra doesn't answer any of your texts, which is unusual for her, but for the most part you don't think anything of it. 

 

When you hear your phone ringing later on, you expect it to be Korra, but instead it's an unknown number. You pick it up and give a standard polite greeting.

  
"Asami? This is Tonraq, Korra's father." His voice sounds somber, and there's a growing seed of worry in the pit of your stomach.

  
"Hi, Tonraq. Is everything alright?"

  
There's a pause.

  
"Korra's been in an accident." _No no no_. "She's in critical condition."

  
You feel yourself crumbling. "What?" you say, and it's half sob half whisper.

  
Tonraq's voice sounds rougher, now, like he's trying not to choke up. "She's unconscious, but starting tomorrow you can visit her at any time. We've talked to the ICU about you already."

  
You don't know what to say, so your manners kick in. "Thank you for letting me know."

  
"Take care, Asami."

 

* * *

 

  
It's alarming to see Korra hooked up to so many machines.

  
You're sitting by her hospital bed feeling like you should say something. Your mind is numb and silent and nothing comes. You don't know if she could hear you, anyway.

  
A nurse comes to tell you that you can't stay for longer than ten minutes on the first visit, because it's protocol and all, so you squeeze Korra's hand one last time and stand up.

  
When the nurse departs to check on someone else, you let go of Korra's hand.

  
"I love you," you say, like it's the easiest thing in the world, and then you leave.

 

It's December 31st.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to split the last part into 2 chapters so I could have this updated earlier.

 

Between you, Senna and Tonraq (and occasionally Bolin, Mako, and Opal) Korra’s bedside is almost never vacant. The three of you have developed an unofficial rotation—you take the evenings and Saturdays.

 

You’re awoken by a phone call two weeks after the accident. When Tonraq’s name shows up on the caller display you’re instantly alert. You know it will be the best of news or the worst of news.

 

“Is she okay?” you ask, picking up the phone and foregoing any pleasantries.

 

“She’s awake.”

 

You cry grateful, grateful tears. “Ask her if she wants to see me?”

 

You’re put on hold, and a moment later Tonraq returns with Korra’s approval. You hastily brush your teeth, throw on a jacket and a pair of jeans, and you’re out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Korra’s been moved to a less intensive wing of the hospital. She gives you a small smile when you enter the room, and you almost start crying again right there.

 

“Hey,” you say, lowering yourself onto the chair next to the bed.

 

“Hey.” Korra’s voice is hoarse. It sounds like music to your ears.

 

You stroke up and down her forearm. “How are you feeling?”

 

“From the waist down, nothing,” she says, but her tone isn’t light. “I don’t know why this happened to me. I’m trying to understand, but I’m _frustrated_.”

 

You take a deep breath. “Korra, I can’t even pretend to imagine that I know what you’re going through. But I’ll be with you, do anything you need, for as long as you want me to.”

 

That becomes the mantra of your next four weeks.

 

* * *

 

 

There are good days and there are bad days.

 

On the bad days you know she feels hopeless. On those days she gets angry over small things—hospital food, the height of her pillow, the blankets being too hot. She tries so hard not to take it out on you.

 

The day she had yelled at you over the placement of a card she’d received it was only a few moments before she had cried and apologized over and over— _I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—_ and you’d told her _it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay_. You know it hadn’t been you she was angry at.

 

“It’s not okay,” she had said. “I’m hurting you.”

 

You want to tell her that she’s the one in pain, that some bruised feelings are nothing compared to her struggle. That she’d even consider it as something important astounds you. But she’s Korra, you suppose; selfless to the point of irony.

 

And something changed in Korra that day. You’re not surprised when she tells you she’s going to live with her parents a few cities over, and that she doesn’t want you to move there with her, though you offer. On the same night, a nurse tells Korra she’s strong enough to start physical therapy, and it’s a bittersweet celebration.

 

Korra doesn’t want you to visit often once she moves, either. _I need to do this on my own_ , she had said. _You need to live your own life again, too._

 

It hits you, then, that for the first time since high school you’re behind on your schoolwork. You haven’t cleaned your kitchen in three weeks, and you’re living on granola bars and take out. You can only nod, though it pains you.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Korra leaves, you have so much time you don’t know what to do with. You put every ounce of your focus into your studies, and catch up easily. After that you work ahead because you don’t know how else to keep yourself busy.

 

You send Korra little texts every so often. She doesn’t reply, but she doesn’t tell you to stop, either, so you make it a weekly thing. You try to include humorous anecdotes so she’ll laugh, because you figure at the very least she’ll laugh at how hard you’re trying to make her laugh.

 

The monotony of your life is comforting at first, and then it’s boring. You text Opal and arrange to meet for coffee because you miss her, too.

 

* * *

 

 

In true Opal fashion, Opal stirs her tea with a metal rod and asks you how your life is going. You shrug. “Not too exciting.” _Lonely_ , you think.

 

“There are remedies for that. Get out more. Date someone,” Opal says.

 

You shrug, and Opal gives you a funny look. “You haven’t dated anyone since Mako, have you?”

 

You’ve grown to hate this topic. “It’s complicated,” you say, and with the way Opal looks at you you know you’ve already revealed too much. You roll your eyes at her questioning stare. “And I’m not still in love with Mako.”

 

“Oh, thank God. Is it someone else?”

 

You may as well go all the way now, you think.

 

“It’s Korra,” you blurt out, and you watch Opal’s features go from confused to comprehending to knowing.

 

“Oh,” Opal sighs breathily, like everything in the world now makes sense. “Oh, Asami…”

 

You leave that café feeling surprisingly lighter.

 

* * *

 

 

Months go by, and then a year has passed and you’ve graduated. You’re running a company full time, now, and you’re glad it gives you something to get lost in. Future Industries has been running well while you were at school, and you’re glad for that. The temporary CEO seems relieved if anything when you take her place, and you try not to be intimidated. You strive not to be your father in everything you do. 

 

In the quiet moments Korra still finds her way into the recesses of your mind. You pine over her, admittedly, but you miss her too much to be embarrassed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

You’re in the boutique side of city center when you see it.

 

The bodice is a solid, light cornflower blue, and the neckline is high, halter-style, and accentuated by subtle white beading. The skirt has two layers: sheer blue fabric on the outside, and off-white lace on the inside. It’s gorgeous, and you can’t help but be reminded of Korra in the colours and fabrics.

 

You imagine her wearing it.

 

And now… you need to buy it. You tell the voice in your head—the one that advises against impulse purchases—that this is special. It’s Korra.

 

It’s more than a dress, and later you realize this. Its fabric is not sewn from cotton or silk but from a hundred hopes and wants, intertwined in a possibility you see as undeniably beautiful.

 

You keep it in your closet, hung up inside of a protective cover.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Korra texts you back for the very first time that same night.

 

_Asami – I’m sorry it’s been so long. I wanted to send something sooner, but I never knew what to say. The past year has been harder than anything I’ve ever experienced. I can walk fine, but I’m struggling mentally. I’m not the person I was before, and I worry I never will be._

_Please don’t tell anyone I’ve responded to you. It’s always been easier to talk to you and I don’t think they’d understand._

 

You read it a dozen times and you’re crying. You want to scream _let me help you_ but you know there’s nothing you can do now. It’s Korra against her own mind.

  
So you work, and you wait.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Korra calls you in early November, almost three years after she had left. You listen to the phone ring for two sequences before you muster up the courage to answer.

 

“Hello?” you say, and the word shakes a little in your mouth.

 

“Hey, it’s Korra.” You close your eyes and bask in the sound of her voice. “I’m in town and I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch or something. Doesn’t have to be today and I understand if you don’t want to or—”

 

“I would love to. Where and when?”

 

You’ve never been as simultaneously excited and nervous about anything in your life.

 

* * *

 

  
You’ve been waiting outside the restaurant for a couple of minutes when you spot her. She’s 50 metres away or so, but from her blue tank top and the way she walks you know it’s her. Her hair is different, though—shorter. It suits her.

 

As she comes closer, you can tell by her tensed shoulders and the way she’s cupping her hands that she’s nervous. Her smile looks almost sheepish, but you jog towards her and pull her against you before you have much time to decipher.

 

She holds you just as close, and she smells faintly of clean clothes and the spicy shampoo she always used to use and you wish you could stay like this longer without it being conspicuous.

 

You pull away, though you still hold her at arm’s length. “It’s so good to see you again,” you say.

 

Korra smiles at you and it's so soft you can’t look away. “You too.”

 

For a moment you take in the way she’s changed—she’s filled out more, and her shoulders are broader. She’s… very in shape. It’s attractive and only a little bit intimidating.

 

“I’m loving the hair,” you say.

 

Korra tugs on a lock and doesn’t meet your eyes, and you’re surprised. She never used to be so bashful, but people can change over the years, you tell yourself.

 

“You’re looking beautiful,” she says, and you’re feeling very very warm. “As always.”

 

A seed is planted in your mind that afternoon. You dismiss the thought, but the hope remains.

 

* * *

 

The restaurant is quiet, which you’re grateful for.

 

The conversation doesn’t stay light for very long. When Korra asks how you’re doing and you say “better” without thinking, she winces. You squeeze her hand in consolation and internally chastise yourself.

 

“It wasn’t your fault, Korra. I don’t hold anything against you,” you say. “Honestly, it’s okay.”

 

Korra looks pained and then you’re in that hospital room again. _It’s not okay. I’m hurting you,_ she had said.  You don’t want to go down that road, so you ask her how _she’s_ doing, which is more important, you think.

 

“It’s not like I don’t have thoughts I don’t want in my head any more, but it’s easier to put them to rest, now.”

 

“I’m so glad you can do that,” you say, and your eyes start to feel prickly. Korra opens up her arms for you and you lean into them.

 

“I’ve missed you so much,” you say.

 

She rests her chin on the top of your head. “I’ve missed you too,” she says. “A lot.”

 

“I’ll get to see you again after this, right?” you ask.

 

Korra stiffens and you feel her sigh. “I stopped renting my apartment here years ago and it’s a three hour drive from my parents,” she says. “I wish I could… I don’t know what I’m going to do when I start going to school here again.”

 

You don’t hesitate. “Live with me,” you say.

 

“You’re serious?”

 

You pull away from Korra. “I’m absolutely serious. I have a spare bedroom.”

 

Korra blinks and seems to consider this. “As long as you’re okay with it.”

 

“Of course I’m okay with it. You’d be doing me a favour, if anything. I get lonely.”

 

A moment passes, and then Korra smiles and elbows you. “So roommates, huh?”

 

You don’t know how this will turn out, but you’re excited.  


 

* * *

   


Two weeks later, Korra moves in, and the two of you settle into a routine with an effortlessness that you suppose shouldn’t have surprised you.

 

Korra gives you money for rent, which you think is ridiculous because she’s practically family and you’ve already bought the apartment, but she insists, so you put the money into a savings account that you plan on giving back to her one day.

 

Apparently when Korra lived with her parents she got into the habit of cooking a decent breakfast in the morning, so together you fry eggs on rice or make clear yam soup or Korra will bake her own bread the night before and you’ll put anything and everything on it.

 

After that, you leave for work, and Korra leaves for her classes, and on most days you get back home at around the same time.

 

Ever since the accident Korra has avoided being in any sort of vehicle while it’s dark, and so after Korra’s evening run you don’t usually go out in the evening. You wouldn’t dream of forcing her to do something that would terrify her like that, and your evenings at home with her are your favourite part of the day, anyway.

 

One Friday night she had said out of the blue that you didn’t have to stay with her in the evenings if you didn’t want to, and you’d almost laughed.

 

“Korra,” you had said. “Do you really think there’s anywhere I’d rather be?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

After Korra’s been settled in for a week, the two of you invite Mako and Bolin and Opal over.

 

The three of them exchange hugs with Korra, and everything is going fine until Mako asks why Korra is living at your apartment.

 

“I stopped renting my own apartment when I was gone, and because I needed to start school again here and Asami had an extra bedroom it just… worked out,” Korra says.

 

Mako furrows his brows for a moment. “What’s going on with you two?” he says, finally.

 

You pale. Bolin looks utterly confused, and Opal meets your eyes, concerned.

 

“I talked to Asami a couple of times while I was gone. We met up earlier and ended up figuring out the whole moving in thing then,” Korra says.

 

“Why didn’t you ever talk to me or Bolin?”

 

“I just… didn’t know what to say.”

 

“‘Hello’ would have been nice.”

 

Bolin rubs his hands together. “I’m going to ask for some tea. Does anyone else want some tea? It’s the right time of year for gingerbread tea, right Asami?”

 

“Right,” you say, and fill up the kettle, glad you have something to do. “Would anyone else like something to drink?” You open the fridge. “There’s um, cranberry juice and milk, and I can make coffee and tea.”

 

Your pour Opal a glass of juice, and Korra sighs. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t write. But I’m here now. And I’ll make it up to you.”

 

“Korra doesn’t need to apologize for anything,” you say. “She was going through so much. She still is.” You look at Mako. “What happened is in the past.”

 

“Asami’s right,” Opal says, and you’re grateful.

 

Mako seems to relent, and things are okay after that.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I know you said I didn’t have to apologize,” Korra says, later that night. “But I still feel guilty.”

 

“About not writing Mako?” you ask.

 

“No. Well, a bit, yeah,” she says. “It’s just… I know I hurt you, being gone so long. I’m sorry.”

 

 _Oh._ “The only reason I was hurting,” you say, “is because something worse hurt you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a regular morning in early December, until you push open the front doors of your apartment building.  Two feet of white blankets every object in sight. You know getting to work will be impossible.

 

“I’ll be right back!” Korra shouts, and she bolts back into the building.

 

You stare at the scenery for a while, because it’s beautiful, and then something hitting your back interrupts your reverie. You turn around and you’re met with a grinning Korra in a pair of ski pants and there’s wet snow dribbling down your leg.

 

“You’re so on,” you say. The process of making your snowball freezes your hands but the projectile hits Korra right in the chest and you count that as a victory. Korra throws a spare pair of mittens at you and you raise your eyebrows.

 

“What?” she says. “It’s always good to be prepared.”

 

You can make snowballs faster now that you have something warm on your hands, and you manage to hit Korra three times while she’s making some of her own.

 

“Wow,” Korra says. “Is that how you’re thanking me for the mittens?” She stands up, and throws one of her six snowballs at your shoulder. “I hope you know this is war, Asami.”

 

“Oh, I do.”

 

You're both soaking wet and freezing by the time you finish with each other, and because you figure you’ll both need to change anyway, you gather an armful of loose snow and dump it on Korra’s head.

 

Korra pushes you onto the snow in retaliation and you’re laughing harder than you have in months.

 

“If you keep initiating these kinds of things,” you say, “I’m going to need a pair of snow pants.”

 

Korra picks you up and throws you over her shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

Your yelp dissolves into laughter. “Where are we going?”

 

“Home,” she says.

 

Not your apartment. _Home_. It warms you so thoroughly you can barely feel the cold.  


 

* * *

 

Things between the two of you feel similar and yet different, and for a while you can’t quite put your finger on what has changed. But when you fall asleep on the couch one night and Korra picks you up and lays you down on your bed and you’re just conscious enough to feel her lips on your forehead you think you might know.

 

* * *

 

  
As someone who has never celebrated it herself, Korra is determined to make a big deal out of Christmas this year. The day you come home and find Korra opening a newly purchased box of tree ornaments is the day you realize you will have to buy a tree.

 

Coordinating a time to find one is more difficult than you expect—you’re both gone in the day and Korra can’t go out at night.

 

“I’m coming,” she says one evening, resolutely. “If it’s dark, I’ll survive.”

 

“Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

 

“I’m sure.”

 

* * *

 

Korra is quiet while you’re driving, and her hands are balled into fists.

 

“You okay?” you ask.

 

She nods.

 

The tree lot isn’t far, and you stay on well-lit roads. When a speeding car passes you on the right, Korra squeezes her eyes shut. “Stop,” she says. You pull over.

 

Korra takes a few deep breaths, and you rest your hand on her shoulder. You’ve always admired her strength but now you’re astounded by it. Facing something that had almost killed you and then left you paralyzed for months is not something you think you could do.

 

“Tell me when you want to keep going,” you say.

 

“Now,” Korra says.

 

“You sure?”

 

“No, but just keep going.”

 

Once you get to the lot Korra lets out a giant breath and gives you a weak smile and the two of you pick the fattest, fullest tree you can find.

 

* * *

 

On Christmas day, you kneel under the tree, and Korra hands you a soft-wrapped gift ( _you first_ , she had said). The paper is patterned with little blue snowflakes and the card taped to it says _To a hundred more snowball fights._ You unwrap a brand new pair of snow pants and it’s silly but it warms your heart.

 

Korra’s gift has you a little more nervous. You don’t know if it will still be the right size, or if she’ll even like the look of it. It’s been too long to return it, though, so all you can do is hope for the best.

 

“I couldn’t figure out how to wrap your gift without crushing it,” you say. “I’ll go get it.”

 

You bring the dress down from its old spot in your closet, and you hold it while Korra undoes the zipper on the protective cover.

 

“I understand if you don’t like it, or it’s not your style, or—”

 

“It’s perfect,” she whispers. She strokes the fabric ever so gently. “Could I try it on?”

 

“Be my guest.”

 

She walks out of the powder room a few moments later and you gasp audibly. You’ve never seen her eyes look quite so blue, and the white beading of the neckline contrasts brilliantly against her dark skin. The soft material of the bodice contours to every curve of muscle and you can’t stop staring.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” you say. You’ve never seen Korra look so shy.

 

* * *

 

The two of you decide you both would rather stay in on New Year’s Eve that year, and so you order pizza and flick between old movies and the ball drop broadcast. It’s embarrassing how early you both crash on the couch, and later you wake up half on top of Korra. She’s already awake, but she still has her arms around you. Her smile is achingly gentle and you don’t make any effort to move.

 

“I love you,” she says quietly.

 

You gape at her, because it’s been so long and she’s made it seem so simple. Then you smile, then you laugh, and then you’re kissing her. Korra tightens her hold around your waist and you taste her mint chapstick and lose yourself in the softness of her lips. Televised crowds cheer in the background and when you pull away ever so slightly you see that the ball has dropped and landed.

 

“Happy New Year, Korra,” you murmur against her lips. “I love you so much.”

  
  



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